The Wanderer
by HelenaDelacroix
Summary: A young woman from Midgard finds herself harshly exposed to the magical kingdom of Asgard-but will she accept it? She meets a young man, one of the gods of her parents' religion, and befriends him, seeing a lost soul, so alike and yet so different to her own. Can they survive the onslaught coming their way? Or will the hand of fate intervene? Find out.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Just a few things before we begin. Given the fact that he hasn't been mentioned yet in the movieverse, this fic goes on the premise that Balder is not a son of Odin, or, at least, no one knows about it yet.

For those of you who are wondering, Loki pops up in the third part of this chapter.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any of the Marvel characters in this story, nor the greater Marvel universe in which this is set.

**PART ONE**

Halla awoke to the crisp chill of morning, embers crackling in the fire. Through the half-light, she could make out the form of her little sister, Asa, nestled close to the hearth in the middle of the room. Halla wished she could be so lucky. From her place on the far side of the hall, the cold worked its way into her very bones, until she felt like one of snow statues they would make outside when no other work needed doing. She wrapped the covers around her tighter, resisting the urge to flop around to the other side of the straw mattress and go back to sleep. She would need to wake Asa soon to start the day.

She felt a sudden longing to once again be the little girl snuggled close to the hearth, woken by her mother with a harsh shake and "Get up." Glancing at the other side of the house, she saw that their parents' bed lay empty. They must not have returned yet, or else were doing something, whatever that could be, outside. Knowing that if they came back and their girls were not yet arisen they would be angry, Halla began to consider getting up.

Alfhildr and their father, Svein, had raised their girls to be hardy and self-reliant, and had never understood Halla's dislike of the cold. In fact, her father thoroughly enjoyed it, relishing in his weekly bath in the icy stream to the west of their hut. The villagers all reckoned it was some sort of pagan ritual, which always made Halla laugh; while Svein took his beliefs seriously, he wasn't quite that fanatical. That sort of behaviour, he said, should be reserved for the Christians.

Halla heard rustling, and opened an eye. Asa's head poked out from under her blankets, turning to look at Halla briefly before collapsing back onto the bed.

Halla smiled. "Asa…" she called, voice breaking slightly.

"I don't want to, it's warm in here," the little girl whined, anticipating the rest of the sentence.

Halla decided to be a good example, and threw the covers off of her, stretching as if she enjoyed the biting cold nipping at her skin. "Come on, Asa, Mother and Father will need our help."

"Where _are_ Mother and Father?" Asa said as she buried herself deeper in the sheets. "Why did they leave so late last night?"

"That I do not know, but they probably had a good reason, don't you think?" she said, sounding more certain of the validity of that statement than she felt. Halla clambered up awkwardly, body stiff from sleep. She walked over to her sister. "Come on," she said, giving the white mound of fabric a light kick. "Up!"

Asa groaned; Halla gave her another kick. "All right, all right, Halla, I'm up already!"

Halla went to the other side of the house, got the washing basin, and went outside to get some snow. Dawn was at the brink of rising, so the world lay awash in a grey, peaceful light. She halted for a moment, admiring the muted blue of the sky, the clouds blowing along, twisting this way, then that. She wondered if the gods were staring right back at her from Asgard, at her parents, the only ones honouring the Aesir and the Vanir for miles. She hoped that would count for something and that they would lead her parents home soon. Her worries were mounting by the moment. Sighing and shivering, Halla bent down and scooped up several handfuls of snow, wincing at the pain they brought.

Taking one last look at the beauty of the morning, she ducked back inside, where Asa had started on combing her hair out using the beautiful bone comb her mother had carved a few years back. Halla placed the basin onto the low hearth fire and undid her own dress. Letting the garments lay in a heap at her feet, she shivered violently, waiting for the water to melt sufficiently. By the time it had, Halla had wrapped a blanket around her and squatted down to the fire. She washed up quickly and ran over to her area. She kept her clothes on a shelf her father had built just above the bed, as well as everything else she had. In amongst the little wood figurines of the gods and carved yet-to-be-strung beads lay a stack of dresses, half of which she had made herself. She chose a worn purple one she had made two years ago, put her fraying white apron over it, belted it, then wrapped herself in one of her father's warm wolfskins. Being an accomplished hunter, her father had many such skins, so there was always one for every member of the family.

Relishing in the warmth, she went over to her parents' mattress and stuck her hand inside the hole at the bottom. She finally fished out the purse that held the family money and pulled out a coin. She needed to go to Tall Bera's house today to have her boots repaired; the lining was breaking apart, and she had already twisted her ankle twice on the ice. She plopped a quarter of a coin into her small leather purse, tying the drawstring tightly shut and fastening it on her belt.

Asa handed her the comb and took the basin off the embers, splashing the water on her face and neck. For all her moaning, Asa seemed to do quite well in the cold, not shivering in the slightest as she washed. As she combed out her hair, Halla thought she heard distant shouts. She grabbed the left side of her hair and began braiding. The shouts grew louder, and she decided it was necessary to go have a quick look, praying that it wasn't what she thought.

A strong gust of wind greeted her when she exited the house, tossing up her rough-spun dress. She could see smoke in the distance, and hear the clang of metal upon metal.

She hurried inside, heart pounding in her ears. "Asa," she said. "We must get father's weapons."

The younger girl looked up at her with wide green eyes. "Why?"

"The village is being attacked. Come, hurry."

Their father kept his weapons in a hollow underneath their parents' sleeping platform. Halla picked out the lightest sword she could find for Asa, and grabbed her father's broadsword. Her father's favourite weapon, decorated in runes no one in the village could read, had been a gift from her mother, from a rather wealthy friend they never saw, nor ever heard much talk about. The only thing Alfhildr had ever said regarding the benefactor was that he had enchanted the sword, so that whoever wields it would unlock his or her greatest potential. She had told Halla to use it if ever she had need of it, if she and her father were gone and if all seemed lost, that it would protect her. She had scoffed at her mother then. Now, she prayed with all her being that the bedtime tale was true.

The shouts had grown louder. Halla went to the door and opened it to a slit she could see clearly through. Dawn had broken; she saw a group of men running out of the small thicket of pine trees separating their land from Gunnarson's. There was Old Gunnar Gunnarson himself, coming to a stop just beyond the tree line. The rest of the group followed suit; blond Harald, twins Grimr and Grettir, Falki with his thick beard, and red-headed Ulfr all raised their swords or axes in near unison. There was silence. She could hear their heavy breathing, could see the beads of sweat on their necks.

A black figure sprang out of the tree line and rushed them, ripping through Grimr at an impossible speed. Before Grimr's body had hit the ground, the thing took off his brother's head before turning on Falki, tearing out his sword arm. Falki shrieked, but the sound soon stopped as the thing ripped out his throat, spraying blood everywhere.

Harald, covered in Falki's blood, raised his axe and struck at the beast. The thing grabbed the axe in mid-swing, flung it into Gunnar's chest, and pulled off Harald's head with two hands, and dumped the bloody stump off to one side. It was then that she got a good look at the monster. It looked human, but its form seemed to _move_ constantly. As if it were made of smoke, constantly turning and twisting. It turned its head, glowing red eyes about to find her blue ones.

Ulfr stepped in, and with a mightly bellow came down on top of it, striking its shoulder. Its form melted away where the sword had struck, and reformed just as quickly. It picked up Ulfr by the shoulder without ever looking at him, flung him with impossible strength at the pines, and with a sickening crack Ulfr fell to the ground, motionless.

Halla gripped her sword tighter. She could hear Asa sob behind her, felt her own hot tears spill down her cheeks. _Our parents are dead, and we will follow them to Valhalla this day._

It stared at her. It moved slowly across the snowy ground, made red with the blood of her friends, men she knew as well as her own family. She shouldered open the door, feeling the chill of the outside wheedle its way into her. It made her strong, and she told herself to be glad that on this beautiful morning, she would make her ancestors proud and join them in the land of the gods.

It rushed her; in a split second she was down on the ground, feeling her neck strain as it gripped tighter and seeing stars. She grasped for her sword; feeling the cool metal touch her hand, she reached out with her fingers, scraping the hilt, nearly getting a hold of it only to have it slide away from her. The world turned black around her.

As the light died, she felt a strange warmth well up from inside her. Suddenly, she was gripping the sword and driving it into the beast one-handed. It shrieked and let go of her; light flooded her vision and she awoke as if from a daydream into the real world. The snow, the trees, the sky, the bodies awoke in her vision. The warmth built up inside her, and she was vaguely aware of a white light encircling her, making the snow twist and swirl around her. The black thing retreated, crouching down low and shielding itself with its arms.

A dark shape fluttered into view, accompanied by a rising orange glow from the left.

A distant voice shouted "Halla! Stop! The house is burning down!" Her sister's face came through the white light up to her streaked with tears and soot, pleading with her to stop, that the beast had gone.

Halla could still see it standing at the tree line, watching her, and knew it would be back. She yelled at her sister, who had disappeared, to stay back, and focused on destroying the beast.

The light shot out of her as quickly as she had formed the thought. The beast emitted a high-pitched noise, something that came from only the darkest of places, and erupted in flames. The inferno grew higher and higher, licking the branches of the pines. In a matter of moments, the fire died down, leaving only a smouldering pile of ash in its wake.

_We are safe_, Halla thought, barely hearing her sister's screams as she fell into a pleasant darkness.

**PART TWO**

Halla awoke in soft silken sheets. _Was it a dream?_ she thought, though as her eyes adjusted to the light she saw that it was not. This place was not her home.

Everything about it was grand and wonderful. Two huge windows that let in the soft light of morning flanked the huge bed she lay in, its dark wood panels decorated with rich, expertly painted depictions of vicious battles with both men and beasts alike. In addition to the many lush couches that inhabited the room, there were also several writing desks, a great many shelves with books on them.

_Who has brought me here?_ Halla thought, tensing, peering into the darkness at the end of the room. For a split second, she thought she saw red, glowing eyes in shadows. Starting, Halla sat prone on the edge of bed. She stared at the shadows for several moments, until she could be somewhat certain nothing was there. When her body finally relaxed, she gathered up the resolve to get out of the bed and escape from wherever she was.

A chill went up her as she pushed back the plush covers and swung her legs over the side and onto the floor. She still wore her dress, but her wolfskin, apron, and boots had been removed. Dismayed, she began to root in, around, and under the bed for any sign of her clothes. She could not make her escape without shoes, lest her toes freeze off in the cold of winter outside!

"So, you're awake," a voice said from behind her crouched form. She jerked up so hard she whacked her head on the wooden panel underneath the mattress.

The woman grinned at her. "Do you know where you are?"

Halla hardened her face and rose herself to her full height. "I am Halla Sveinsdottir, and I demand to know why I have been abducted," she said in her lowest, most dangerous voice.

She chuckled. "I know who you are, my love." She inclined her head. "Bera. Pleased to be of service."

That made Halla frown. _Service?_ she thought. _What does she take me for, some rich lord's offspring? What the hell is going on here? _Before she could correct Bera, the old woman spoke.

"Are you not used to such a place? I understand that you are from a small village, in the north of Midgard."

_Midgard?_ _Aren't we all from Midgard? _"You are correct that I live in the north, old woman. Again, I ask you, what am I doing here?" Halla said. She noticed a glint coming from the curtains on the window behind her. Bera saw her look and gestured to the fabric.

"It's made of gold," she said. "Spun gold."

Halla raised an eyebrow. "Gold? To make curtains? Why would anyone waste such valuables on curtains?"

Bera laughed. "You are exceedingly forthright child, though I suppose I might wonder the same thing in your position." She walked towards the centre of the room. "You really don't know where you are, do you?" Halla did not deny it. The old woman smiled. "You are in for a treat, then. This is no place like any other. Certainly not Midgard, at least." The woman's nose pinched when she said Midgard, Halla noticed. "Come, child."

Halla came over to her and faced in the direction she faced. The window here looked out not onto an orchard as did the other one, but onto the most fantastic city Halla had ever seen. The buildings were tall, gilded, and touched the sky. People were going to and fro, bustling around each other. Some hawked their wares on the side of the street, while others greeted friends and lovers. They all looked healthy and happy. And there were so _many_ of them!

And the sky. It was like nothing she had ever seen. It was as if the stars were right there! She reached out with a hand and imagined for a moment that she could touch the tiny specks of light, mingled in with the brilliant colours of the night sky swirling around, making rainbow bridges against the blackness.

"Is this…Valhalla?" she asked, still gazing up at the sky.

"No, darling." Bera walked to her side, staring up with her. "Halla, you're in Asgard."

Her breath caught in her throat. "As…Asgard?" Her smile faltered. "Why am I in Asgard? What have I done?"

The old woman shrugged. "Nothing, but be born the daughter of a…well, I suppose I'll let him explain that particular bit of news."

Halla stared at her for a moment longer before returning to the sky. _The sky above _Asgard_. _And it was beautiful. At the end of it, there wasn't even really a sky, but a mix of blue and pink, deep purple, red, yellow, all colours she never thought possible in the heavens, with bright white stars dotting the black expanse farther out. Further, she caught a glimpse a side of a massive gilded sphere with a giant point on the top. That, she could not seem figure out, no matter how hard she thought about what it could be. _Maybe it's a way home…._

For several minutes, neither of them said anything. She noticed the old woman walk away and heard the door close eventually, only for it to open once more moments later.

A deep voice rumbled from behind her. "Halla?"

She turned, seeing a man just beyond the doorway at the other end of the room. He was tall, dark-haired, with a kind, smiling face. He wore a thick cloak over golden armour that shimmered with an ethereal glow, even in the darkness of the doorway.

He swung off his cloak, dropping it on a nearby chair. He gestured to a cluster of couches near to the fireplace, parallel to where Halla stood. "Would you?"

She swallowed and nodded, too afraid to be courteous. She crossed the room and sat down on a red, tall-backed great chair made of oak and some soft material Halla had never encountered before. She relished in its softness before the tall man sat down across from her, blue eyes staring into hers.

"Halla, I am Balder. Perhaps you have heard my name spoken in your village?" he said rather meekly for such a strong man.

Her mouth gaped. "B-Balder? The god of…." She rose from the couch and knelt on the ground, bowing her head deeply. "My lord-"

He made a _tsk_, which prompted her to look up. He motioned for her to stand. "Please, Halla, none of that. Let's be equals, shall we?" He smiled kindly.

She obeyed him. "I…I am not, though, your equal-"

He held up a hand. "Halla, there is no easy way to tell this to you. I doubt your mother would have told you, or else this whole…event would not have effected you in this way." His eyes were downcast for a moment. "Halla, I am…your father." He looked up, face constricted.

"But…my father's name in Svein…-"

He bowed his head. "The man who raised you, who's name you carry…I know that he is your father for all intents and purposes, but you are not his daughter by blood."

"I…I-"

He held up a hand again. "Let me explain. That sword, the one you used to wound the shadow beast? It was from me to your mother. If you were ever in trouble and that sword was within your vicinity, its magical properties would activate and protect you, until I could come and rescue you."

She remembered the broad sword. She had got it out to protect herself and-

"Where is my sister?"

Balder didn't move a muscle. Nor did he speak for several moments.

"No….Oh no. No. No no no." She felt like an outsider in her own body. _This is not happening. This is a dream I must wake up from. Please, dear gods, let me wake up._

But there was a god sitting before her, telling her that he sister was dead. She found herself standing, "What happened? Tell me what happened!"

"Your power…it needs to be controlled-"

The floor came rushing up to meet her; then the world went black.

**PART THREE**

Of all the things that Balder could have wanted to see him about, wiping the memory of his long-lost daughter was not something Loki had expected.

"Are you serious, Balder?" he asked, disdain dripping from each word. "You actually…want _me_…to go inside your daughter's _head_…and remove _all memory_ of her mortal sister?" Balder inclined his head stiffly. Loki snorted. "You must be jesting."

Balder's pleasant features twisted into a frown, blue eyes darkening. "This is not a _joke_, Loki!" he growled. "If she is ever going to be able to control her powers-"

"How in the Nine Realms is _violating_ her in such a way going to help put her in control of herself?" Loki put particular emphasis on "violating" in the hopes that his brother would see how terrible his little idea sounded. "She _will_ figure it out someday, especially _when _she decides to go visit home and everyone is talking about the little brat!"

Balder remained impervious to logic. "Because, Loki…" He took a deep breath. "She _killed_ Asa. She _killed_ her _sister._"

Loki frowned slightly. _Well, that does change things_. "I see." He walked down the steps of the temple, stopping near the banister that overlooked the streets below. _Perhaps he is correct. Maybe I should do it. Can't have an insane wunderkind about the place, destroying bedrooms and the like._ He saw a group of young boys running and laughing, dodging the passersby in their path. A few paces behind ran a younger, frailer boy, struggling hard to keep up with them.

_Oh look, it's me_. "What do I get out of it?"

"Excuse me?" the God of Light said from behind him in an indignant voice.

Loki turned around, leaning slightly against the banister. "What's in it for _me_?"

Balder's face reddened. "Are you…I can't…Is there no modicum of pity in you, Loki?"

"Unfortunately for you, my dear Balder, there is not." He gave Balder his best smirk and watched him storm off down the rest of the steps to the lower levels. He heard him say "This is the reason no one will dare befriend you!" as he drifted from sight.

Loki's smile fell. This had not been a good day, and his brother's friend's new addition to Asgard had not made it any better.

Loki strode down the steps and across the walkway to the palace, intending to get something to eat. He had skipped his midday meal; Amora was a demanding teacher and had teased him that something _intimate_ could happen if he kept at it for a while longer. Like the utter fool he was, he had practiced until his head hurt, and had left without even so much as a kiss.

_Honestly, Loki, you must learn to stay away from women_. _First you saddle yourself with _Sigyn_, and now this one keeps you from eating with her feminine wiles,_ he told himself as he turned the corner, quite literally running into his brother.

Thor gave him a smile. "Brother! This is just so. Father would like a word."

_Shit._ "What about?" he said, in a perfectly even voice.

He shrugged. "He was talking to the guards when I overhead him. Something about a girl?" He jabbed him with an elbow. "Been _visiting_ Amora, eh, brother?"

Loki gave a wry smile. "Hardly."

When he entered the throne room, Loki encountered a very dissatisfied Odin. His father sat in his throne, glaring down at him with a hard, unimpressed eye, holding Gungnir firmly in one hand. "Loki," he said. "You should do as Balder asks."

_Oh, not _this_ again!_ "But Father-"

"You will do as he asks! You do not understand the consequences of this girl's power!" he bellowed, voice echoing throughout the hall. He stood, causing his staff to hit the floor and ring out in its signature baritone _thump_. "She must be controlled."

"And getting rid of her family's memory is going to help us do that? It may come to pass that she remembers. _Any_ spell can be undone. I told Balder as much."

"It is necessary."

Silence. His father did not move a muscle, but merely stared at him unblinking. Loki sighed. "I will do as you command." He bowed slightly. _This is going to be a headache._

"I want this completed as soon as possible." Odin returned to his throne and Loki took that as his cue to leave. He spied a guard staring rather amusedly at him as he strode out, but a glare and an evil grin were enough to stop that. He would not be laughed at in his own palace. _Well, father's…._

If he were going to do this, he would need Amora. _That's not so bad_. The prospect of seeing her again, of being successful in his advances, perhaps even to shut her up for a time, made him stride out of the palace that much faster.

He walked through the gardens, across the walkway, up the steps, and back into the temple. She lingered there still, open book in hand. She shut it firmly when he arrived, and smirked. "Why, back so soon Loki?"

_How I want to shut that condescending mouth!_ "I have need of your assistance."

She looked at him a moment longer with mischievous green eyes before turning to replace her book, reaching upwards toward the bookshelf in such a way that made her tight-fitting skirt cling to her, revealing much intimate knowledge of her figure. She saw his stare, chortled, and swished her long, blonde hair to one side with a shake of her head. "Of course I'll help you erase the bastard girl's memories. It's simple."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is it?" he said, voice filled with sarcasm, not in the least bit surprised that she knew about Balder's whelp.

He sauntered towards him, perky breasts bouncing in her shirt in the process. "It is." As she brushed past him, he caught the scent of flowers. "You just need to have the right skills. Which I do." She picked up a book and glanced back at him, eyes smouldering.

He smirked. "Good. Then let's get to work."

As Amora explained the procedure for the spell, Loki formed a plan in his mind. _The girl must be watched_. Despite the fact that she was but a half-mortal, she was much too powerful for him to allow her to escape his notice. There was something more to this than Balder had divulged to the rest of Asgard. Why did he not bind her powers long before this? For that matter, why did she only display her amazing abilities at such a late age? Why did her mother not tell her of her parentage, and why would her mother choose to live in a hut in the coldest reaches Midgard when she could have lived with a "god" in Asgard? Balder would never have pursued, nor had a child with, a woman he did not love; it was one of the reasons he was so adored.

The only way to find out the answers to his questions was to observe her and Balder, and perhaps go visit her village on Midgard. The trick would be to escape Heimdall's ever-watchful eye, and find a way to keep Amora far away from it all.

Two guards carried the young woman into the temple after everything was in place. She was truly a child of Balder, beautiful in every aspect, though she probably stood shorter than the vast majority of Asgardians when standing. Through the soft fabric of her dress, he could see an athletic figure toughened by the trials and tribulation of Midgardian living; her feet were hardened into calluses, as were her hands and knees. Her head fell back as the guards clumsily dumped her onto the stone slab in the middle of the room, revealing a nasty set of crooked brown teeth. Loki grimaced. If he were to have done any spell on Balder's daughter, it would be to fix _that_.

Teeth mattered not in this, however. Amora began the chant and he joined in, feeling the power rising between them with each passing moment. As the spell went on, the connection only increased, until he could see nothing but her eyes, her marvellous, horrible, mystical emerald eyes. A sea of pleasure and possibility flooded his senses; the only thing that mattered were those _eyes…._

Suddenly, the waters receeded, and the gray of the temple walls filled his vision once more. Amora turned away, gathering the items they had used.

"That's it?" he asked.

"Yes, it was about an hour, Loki," she replied without turning back.

"Really? It felt like-"

"That's the power of the spell. Only a master sorcerer is not taken in by it." She turned back around, a devious smile playing across her lips. "I suppose I we have a lot of work to do."

"I suppose we do, indeed."


	2. Chapter 2

Our story continues!

**PART ONE**

Halla watched intently from her place in the back of the room, partly hidden in the slanting shadows cast down by the golden pillars. She had no real reason to hide, she knew, but this tall man scared her. He scowled, pitiless, as the old woman pointed outwards, towards the handful of chairs and desks scattered about, unrelenting. She didn't seem frightened of him, but Halla thought that might be a mistake.

Suddenly, the conversation ended. The woman breezed out of the room with the grace of someone twenty years younger, hiking her skirts up as she strode through the open oak door and up the steps towards the light of day. Halla looked up at the stained glass of the immense window above her; she had only seen such once, when her mother had taken her and her sister to the great town of Eriksdal to see their new cathedral. The glass had cast wonderful colours all across the stone floor and showed pictures of stories she knew well, that of Jesus the White Christ, his disciples, and his death and resurrection. Her village's church, a large wooden hut with a black wooden cross poking out precariously from the roof, had holes for windows and crude, faded paintings by old Tor Grettisson, the oldest, blindest man of all the old, blind men in the village, thirty years ago. Christ there had been painted a redhead with bright green eyes, but Eriksdal seemed to consider him as having brown hair and blue eyes. It made no matter to Halla. Her mother had never taken her children to the church to pray, just to admire the artistry. A sudden pang of loss hit her, and she tried to push Ellfjell as far back into her mind as she could.

The scary tall man was talking, telling everyone to sit down so that he could get this over with. "This" probably meant the tutoring she had been sent to receive. The prospect of spending the next few hours with this man did not please her, nor did it make her want to practice her supposed skill at the black arts any more.

His eyes flicked to her for a second, which was enough for her to realize herself and pull up a seat to a table facing catty-corner to the front of the room. Nearer to the door was a great oak desk, rich with age. The man stood over a voluminous book, examining it quickly with his hands at his hips. He rolled his eyes; the soft gold light glinted off them, so that Halla could see that they were green. A brilliant green at that. She had never seen that shade before. She leaned her head up to get a better look until his eyes met hers. The intensity of the gaze enraptured her, and she was unable to pull away.

"It looks like you lot are supposed to begin learning how to control the element of fire today," he said, releasing her from his stare and addressing the others. "You're in luck."

Halla glanced at the four other girls in the room. All were several years younger than she; they had probably seen their thirteenth year pass by, but couldn't be more than fifteen or sixteen. That made her the oldest by six or so years. Feeling her cheeks redden in embarrassment, Halla tried to ignore her misgivings about the scary man and focused on what it was he was saying about controlling fire, which she knew no man could possibly do.

He grabbed one of the spare chairs and set it in front of him. "Watch." He relaxed his gaze, his face softened, and as he whispered a word or two, the chair became an inferno, rushing toward the ceiling. They all gasped in unison. He said another string of words, and just as suddenly the flames were extinguished, leaving a heap of ashes on the floor and a scorch mark across the ceiling.

"This is your goal," he said, striding back toward the small group. "Total control of the action of the element. Be too lenient with it, and fire will consume everything. Give it too many rules, you will smother it before it is even the smallest flicker. Eventually, you will master this to such an extent that you will not need to say the words."

He waited for that to be absorbed by the students. A girl was asking him what he had said exactly, but Halla could no longer pay attention. That had been impossible, that mastery of flame had not existed in her world a few moments ago. She felt her fingers begin to ache, and noticed that she was gripping her desk so hard her fingers were red and white. She had to force them to release. She slowed her breathing, closing her eyes and imagining she was playing the lute, the image she always went to in stressful times.. When she opened them again, the scary man had one of the girls at practice on another stool while he watched, disinterested, from behind her. She managed to raise the fire, but could not quench it. The next could conjure but redness in the wood and the one after could do neither. The last girl had trouble at first, but refused to give up. Setting her jaw in a firm line, the little brown-haired one managed to light it on fire and to put it out. He congratulated her offhandedly and looked up at the window. Sighing, he turned to her and said in languishing drawl, "Well, it's your turn, whoever who are."

She swallowed. Trying to ignore his gaze, she pulled over her own chair to the centre of the room, as there was not another extra. Wiping all other thoughts from her mind, she relaxed herself as he had, and remembered the words he had spoken.

She said them under her breath, and suddenly it was as if she were the heat, were the very air in the room, moving faster and faster until her object burst out in a great fire, licking the walls and the ceiling. She gloried in it, felt the rush of power for a moment, before it was taken away from her.

"_Cease_!" he shouted from behind her, and the flames were gone. She snapped her head around.

"What are you doing?" she growled, the anger in her spiking as she saw his own.

"What are _you_ doing?" he threw back in a similar growl.

The rest of the students had fled and were staring at them from the bottom few steps outside the door. Their wide eyes angered her for a moment before she felt ashamed. She started to splutter nonsense until the man cut in.

"You are done for today, go home and think of this as a lesson not to toy with things you don't understand." They understood his warning clearly, bowed, and clambered up the steps, chattering about the strange event before they were out of sight.

Halla's chest heaved with each intake of breath. The world seemed to narrow, and she knew she needed to sit. Collapsing on a chair near to her, she let her shoulders fall.

"What was that?"

She looked into his curious eyes and said, "I have no idea!"

He squinted. "You're sure?" She didn't reply. "Why are you in this tutoring anyway? The older girls are taught by Bera later in the day."

She shook her head. "I only know that I was instructed to go here, in mid-afternoon, to begin my training."

He leaned against the big desk. "Begin? But you must be at least twenty!"

"Perhaps, but mother reckoned it was one-and-twenty, though father always said it was nine-and-ten."

"You don't know how old you are?" His face cracked into a disbelieving smile at that, eyebrows raised in suspicion.

"Not exactly, but who does?"

"Well, I certainly do!" He stood up and made a half circle around her. "You don't know who I am, do you?"

Her mouth gaped. "I-I know you're someone important, but I do not know what title you hold, besides instructor of magic, sir."

His eyes flashed over her quickly. "What is your name, wench?"

"Halla Sveinsdottir, and I would prefer you call me Halla, if you would, sir. May I ask your name?"

The noise that came out of him was part laugh, part shout. "What a bold young wench! You would speak to the prince of Asgard in such a manner?"

She gasped and immediately knelt on the ground, head bowed. "Thor, god of thunder and master of Mjolnir, please forgive me, I did not mean to cause offense." _Oh, Halla, you fool! Five days in Asgard was too much for you, wasn't it?_

She heard him sigh. "Alas, no. Though it _is_ rather refreshing to have someone bow to me like that out of actual respect, not out of mere custom or caution. Perhaps my true name should remain a mystery to you after all."

She started to say "But I would like to know your name" but thought better of it. _Keep your mouth shut, you silly woman!_

His boot appeared before her, and then she saw his hand outstretched before her. "Come, even though you have insulted the son of Odin, it is abundantly clear you meant naught by it." The hand jutted towards her. "It's alright, I don't bite. Not this time at least." He chuckled.

She thought she had better take his offer, even though she was not wont to do so. He gripped her hand lightly and pulled her up. Their eyes met, her head tilted far back due to his unnatural height. The meanness, the contempt was gone, and instead a playful, rather fun light danced in them. He inclined his head slightly. "Loki Odinson, prince of Asgard and master sorcerer, my lady Sveinsdottir." He laughed.

_I knew it! So he _is_ Loki, second son of Odin_. Her mother had told her stories of the gods and their exploits, so she knew of all of them well. She had even met them. She had, however, not met this particular god. The others, Balder, Sif, Odin, and Thor had been what she thought they would be: strong and valiant, and Odin wise, like in the tales. The one she could remember of Loki was the one where the man, the _god_ standing before her, had dressed his brother in the clothes of a woman so as to trick the giant Thyrmr into giving Mjolnir back. She wondered whether he would turn out as she believed he would.

She returned the inclination with a deeper one. "I'm sorry for giving offense. I am…not from here. Obviously."

"Obviously." He smiled.

His mouth opened and he nearly spoke, but something behind her caught his attention and his good humour vanished. "Did you see that?" he said.

"Not if it's behind me," Halla said, looking behind her. For the first time she saw the damage she had done. There were scorch marks all along the walls where once were smooth dark yellow walls with elaborate carvings drawn on the borders. On the ceiling a large black mark marred its soft cream color. "Oh no…"

"Oh, don't worry about that, that horrible wench will clean it on the morrow. Just be _quiet_." He stood stock-still. His head jerked to one side. "There it is again." His eyes followed something she could not see in the shadows of the room. "You should leave-"

Suddenly, the shadows seemed to grow and twist, climbing ever higher until they became a man with vicious red teeth and eyes rushing at them. His black hand sprang out to grab her, and she screamed. A blast of light flashed before her, knocking her backwards, and then there was nothing.

**PART TWO**

He woke up in complete darkness, so complete that at first he did not know if his eyes were open at all. The blackness was unlike anything he had seen before. Even when he had journeyed into the darkest part of a cave and extinguished his torch for just a second, just to feel how it felt to be utterly blind, it had not been so dark as this. It felt dark. It smelled dark.

He felt around for something, anything. That shadow monster, whatever it was, must have done this, he thought. He had not the slightest what it might be, or how to destroy it. _Well, if it's shadow, maybe it's vulnerable to fire…. Wouldn't that be lucky for me?_

His hand brushed against something soft and smooth and pliable. He followed it down, over a suspicious mound and then back down again. From that point, it began to taper.

The thing stirred. He realized what it was too late.

"Who is that? Why is it so dark? What's going on?" Halla screamed at him. "Are you-"

He heard the fear in her voice and quickly said "It is Loki, remember? We were in the tutoring room."

"Yes of course I remember! Why were you touching my arse?"

He stiffened at the harsh tone. "I apologize, I didn't know that was you, now can we please stop this pointless argument and focus on the task at hand, namely getting the Hel out of this place?"

He heard a pointed sigh, and a mumbling of words he probably didn't want to hear. "Fine, you're right. Why is it so dark?"

"There's a possibility that we're-"

"Oh no, we're inside it, aren't we? Oh Jesus, if you exist-"

"Who? Who is this Jesus? Is he responsible for this?"

"What? No! Jesus…never mind, it doesn't matter." He heard rustling. "Reach out so that I might find you."

"I have done so."

"Well, this isn't working. Conjure up some fire or something, master of sorcery."

He bristled. "You've got quite a tongue, don't you? What makes you think I won't leave you here?"

"Just do it."

He sighed. "I tried, Halda, but there is…nothing here. It's as if there is no substance whatsoever, yet we still breathe, still stand on something-"

"What's Halda? Why not try another tactic? What are our options?"

"Isn't Halda…?" he lied.

He heard an irritated whine. "_Halla_!"

"Why are we talking about this? Be silent so that I may think." _I cannot conjure fire, nor water, nor any other element that could penetrate this realm. Yet there is still air…perhaps I could force the air apart, till it surpasses the confines of this place. Though it could be infinite, and I might not be able to breathe. Hmm. Perhaps a better plan is to-_

Suddenly, a bright white light blinded him. He held up his hands, and as his eyes adjusted saw through them a silhouette of a woman. "I found the door," Halla said.

He got up and went to her. "A _door_? Why would there be a _door_ of all things?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, but I'd rather take my chances out there than feeling around blindly in the dark."

He nodded assent. "Quite right. Let's go."

Stepping through the light, Loki found himself in a clearing, surrounded by tall oaks and pines, a bright blue sky above him. "This looks like Midgard."

"It does," Halla agreed. "Why would such a beast take us to Midgard?"

"I don't think it did," Loki said. He walked towards the tree line. The green of the leaves was striking, the deep brown of the bark almost mesmerizing. "I think we're _inside_ the beast, as you suspected. Or else in another dimension."

"_Dimension_? What's a _dimension_?

"It's…another world, different from our own."

"Why would it want to capture us in such a way?"

"The real question is: why it would want to capture _me_?" he lied again. _This all has to do with the girl, so why would it capture me? Was it just because I happened to be there?_ "And the answer to that is clear." He touched an oak leaf; a swollen drop of dew slid down from it and onto his hand. He released it and called out to her. "He wants something from my father, so he holds me for ransom."

She said nothing. _Interesting. She doesn't inform me of her history with such beings._ He went farther into the trees, crunching the russet and auburn fallings beneath him. Each sound, crisp and clear, seemed to ring out through the whole forest. A light wind travelled slowly to him, twisting and turning the branches it passed through. It danced around him, lightly brushing his skin and softly rustling his hair, before moving on. It passed by Halla, and she glared at it with narrowed eyes. It tossed her silk skirts in the air, nearly revealing too much of her athletic lower half, but she did not notice or did not care enough to pull them down. Her blonde hair was tossed back and up, back and up, until it flew about her like a nest of serpents. Her eyes widened, then relaxed. Her mouth formed words he knew well.

He broke into a run. "_Halla! Don't!_"

A spark lit on the ground and suddenly a raging inferno surrounded her, so thick he could not see her. A high-pitched screech, sounding from all sides, nearly broke his concentration.

"_Qlfoss__á_!" he whispered, guiding the sudden rush of water down onto Halla, extinguishing the fire. The smoke curled upward so as to obscure his view, but he flicked that away with a hand. Under him lay the young woman, unharmed and drenched to the bone.

"What was _that_?"

"What made you think igniting a fire when a _windstorm_ was surrounding you was a good idea? You could have gotten me _killed_!"

Her blue eyes narrowed in scorn. "Considering it was I inside the thing-"

"Silence!" Loki could not listen to her reproachful voice for another moment. At least those uppity Asgardian wenches gave him _some_ respect! This wench wouldn't shut her mouth for one moment, though she had sang a different tune when she thought he was Thor. _Of course. Should have went with that. Though I didn't know I'd have to escape from the belly of some shadow beast with her, did I?_

He stalked away from her, attempting to reclaim his control. It would do no good to get needlessly angry with the wench, she _had_ been raised mortal after all, and anger would not get her to trust him.

Slowly, Loki's annoyance subsided, and he gave up his plan to throttle her till she was black in the face. "You should not be using sorcery yet. You react too instinctively, not with enough forethought to prevent such accidents from occurring."

He heard her approach him, light footsteps on the dewy grass. "But I can! I can control it, or I would have incinerated myself. And it can't just be you-"

"It can't just be me?" Towering over the little half-god, he made his voice into a low growl. "Don't tell me what I can and cannot do, wench! I am a god, a son of Odin, and what are you? A small, weak bastard girl who was for some unholy reason brought to Asgard in order to pester me endlessly. I have half a mind to strangle you where you stand, if only to make my escape more pleasant."

That got her attention. She had backed away from him significantly; he could she her trembling. Despite his initial elation at her display of fear, her terrified, helpless eyes made his anger simmer. She was but a mere girl, lost, without her parents, completely alone and in a very frightful situation the likes of which she probably never dreamt she would have to deal with.

Also, anger and fear appeared to trigger her powers, so the wisest course was not to foster those emotions.

He smiled. "Excuse me, Halla. That was unkind of me, though you _should_ give me more respect. Even though I may not be _Thor_, I am still a member of the royal house. Even if Balder is your father, he is still below me in rank." She nodded assent, but trembled still. "Balder brought you to Asgard, didn't he?"

"So you do know who I am," she said, curiosity replacing fear. "You lied."

"I am the God of Mischief and Lies, am I not?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but he held up a hand. A strong breeze had picked up, rustling his hair. Her eyes grew large, and Loki turned around.

"Well, that took longer than I thought."

Sure enough, a veritable tornado ripped through the forest, heading directly towards them. Branches and leaves were drawn up into the vortex, then pulverized until they were nothing more than dust. _This attack must be the beast's first real attempt to hurt us_, he thought. _Only one solution._

"_Run!_"

The door to the dark place had disappeared after they had entered through, so his only recourse was to go into the woods. Glancing behind him, he saw that the wind tunnel was indeed following him, and it was gaining ground on him rapidly. A flash of blonde told him the girl was behind him. _Who is it after, Halla, daughter of Balder or Loki, son of Odin?_

To his dismay, the foliage was repeating itself; he had passed the pine trees with the log between them twice now. This wood would go on endlessly until the tunnel caught up with him, he realized. He had to do something, and he had to do it now.

Luckily, he knew just the thing. Halla had had the right idea, but her execution was poor. He stopped abruptly, spinning around. He focused all his energy into one point, and could feel the greenery around him alight all at once. Halda stood beside him, so terrified he could taste it. "Be calm!" he shouted. "I need to do this alone!"

The tornado, mere meters above them, began to revolve faster and faster, blowing away the flames with its velocity. _Perfect._

He let the fire die down, and the sky demon, lulled into thinking it had them, charged. When the tip of the vortex was inches away from his face, Loki reignited the fire _within_ it, shooting flames licking the innards, and then from all sides. The fire lept and jumped, growing without his help. The thing screamed as it burned to death, a satisfying sound to his ears. He increased the conflagration, and an inferno tore through the forest, turning green and brown to black and red. He heard other screams in the distance, and the whole realm was ignited as if it was a funeral pyre. He couldn't help but laugh.

Crumbling like parchment in a fireplace, the world fell away, and for a split second he saw the beast's face glowering at him. He could make out some features; it had a nose and a mouth, filled with particularly vicious-looking teeth, or _fangs_ rather. It peered at him, then disappeared, leaving a cold, hard world behind it.

**PART THREE**

"So it _is_ another _dimension_," Halla said.

"Not necessarily," the god said, poking at the small fire with a stick. "We still don't know what this thing really is. It could be the embodiment of many different places, ideas, even beings."

"Or we could be unconscious on the floor of the tutoring hall."

"Or that," he said, giving the fire once last jab before standing up. "Are you cold?"

She gave him a withering look. It must have been the coldest place she had ever been to, which was what the southerners had said about her village when they had come to trade goods. They had carried with them a valuable rich, dark wine, which when warmed had been an invaluable comfort in the winter months, when the winds would blow from all directions, turning the village into ice. The traders had always come in the summer, and even that was cold to them. Marcus had complained every year that he would fall ill and die in the frostbitten north. Halla had replied that at least he would die in the arms of someone he loved.

The God of Mischief was standing closer to the edge than she was, lost deep in thought. She stared at him for a moment more before turning her gaze to the frozen wasteland around them. Mountains and valleys peppered the landscape; sharp white peaks pierced the sky above them. In front of her, a sheer cliff dropped off into the darkness of a crevasse that must have been a thousand leagues deep at the least.

"I know what it's doing."

"What?" she asked.

"Trying to kill us. We'll grow insane being stuck in this hellhole and throw ourselves into the gap," Loki snorted. Halla set her mouth in a firm line. She was getting irritated at his irreverent jokes, but didn't dare tell him as much. She still remembered how his voice had reverberated in her head, how his eyes seemed to turn from green to black the last time he became angered with her. _Let's try a different approach, like not badgering the god of mischief, the next time we wish to share an opinion with him._

Halla shifted her weight. "There's something I don't understand. If it wanted to keep us there, why would there be a door?"

"It wanted it there. It wanted us to find it so that the wind demon could murder us with its scary wind powers."

"Murder us? But didn't you say it was a ransom-"

"Yes, I know. That was just a jest."

"The part about the ransom-?"

"No, the thing I just said-" He rolled his eyes. "Just be quiet." He looked down off the cliff. "This reminds me too much of Jötunheim." His face looked drawn and his eyes strained. "You should get some rest," he instructed her after a lengthy pause of more staring and thinking.

"I'm not tired. At all, in fact."

"Neither am I."

A particularly strong gust of wind seemed to blow straight through her. She pulled the cloak tighter. "You look it," she said.

He grimaced. "It's not exhaustion, it's frustration." He walked closer to the edge. "This whole thing is getting stranger and stranger. It's like a dream. While we don't seem to get hurt, we can appear to do harm to others. Is it testing us? Why?" He edged his feet the slightest bit over the edge. "If I ever manage to get out of here, I _will_ kill it." He leaned farther and farther out, balancing on the balls of his feet. "Or I could just fall and see where that takes me." He laughed.

She grabbed his arm and pulled him back roughly. "Don't even think about it, I won't let you," she said, shaking. She had no recollection of getting up at all. Suddenly, she was scared; the humour had vanished from his face.

"_Let_ me?" he repeated, slowly, a dangerous smile on his lips.

She immediately released him, and, nearly choking on fear, backed away from him and knelt down on the ground. Her knees exploded in pain from the cold of the ice. " I…I'm sorry…son of Odin and…Prince of Asgard. Please forgive me." She bowed her head and waited for his response, but it never came. Instead, he merely turned back around and continued to look out at the landscape. She took that as her cue to sit back down on her rock, away from the edge where the winds were harshest. She rubbed her aching knees, attempting to warm them up, eyes never leaving the back of his head.

Instead of launching into a murderous rage, he merely came back to sit down beside her and began poking at their sad little fire again; they had only found a little wood and Loki said he had been unable to use any sort of magic here. The shadow beast had probably learned that lesson from their time in "Midgard."

"I wish I had a way of making you warmer."

"It's alright," she said in a rush, without looking at him. "I'm thankful for your kindness."

He sighed. "I'll get you home soon."

She glanced at him quickly, smiling. _What is this kindness, really?_ "You know, you could have burned us alive back there," she said tentatively.

"Eh, I figured that world would end with the wind demon, and we would be released."

She wanted to call him a liar, then and there, but remembered his face back in the forest, and his _smile _when she had used the word_ let._ "You know what I just thought?"

He smirked and opened his mouth to say something, but she had already launched into her idea and couldn't stop the words from pouring out. "It's like the beast is sending us through the different realms. First, the beginning. Nothing. Then to Midgard. Now to Jötunheim. "

"I have had the same thought. First, I thought it was challenging us in our native realms, to learn more about us, but since this is definitely not Asgard, that can't be true. It might believe we know something, and is using these places to heighten our memories. I have seen it done in a similar manner before." He leaned back. "I sincerely hope we won't be sent to Nidavellir next."

"Or worse, Muspelheim."

Loki frowned at that, his angular face taking on a darker sheen. His green eyes were focused as he descended deeper into thought, as she had discovered he was wont to do. The rest of him was still and relaxed, a similar position he took when performing his sorcery. The wind tore at his clothes, though he seemed not to feel it. Was that a product of being a god? After all, she was only a half-god, so maybe her mortal half was getting the best of her in this circumstance. _Half-god, hah!_ She trembled at the thought. _If only mother and father could see me now._ A familiar pang of loss hit her, and stayed for a while.

A strong gust once more ripped through their little encampment, tossing his black hair around forcefully as he gazed into the flames. He was an odd sort of handsome, she decided. Even though he looked different from the light-haired, burly men she was used to, his slighter, more elegant frame held a certain fascination for her. It reminded her of the two slaves Gunnarson had brought back with him after a raid when she was but a girl. They had been in the northernmost reaches of the land the slaves said was called _Alba_. The man had been shorter, naturally, than Loki, as all Midgardians seemed to be in relation to the gods, but he had his slight yet muscular build and pointed face, almost like a triangle. Both the _Alban_ and his sister had died in the sickness that had stolen the lives of so many in their village six years ago. She sighed. _Death follows me like a hopeless lover._

There was something else, though. Cunning and cruel, Loki behaved unlike the other Asgardians she had met, seeming to prefer witty jests and word games in the place of straightforward discussion. That was to be expected; she knew his deeds well. And while all the other Asgardians had treated her with respect, they were stiff, formal, and seemed a bit hesitant to get close to her. He may call her names and attempt to scare her, which he happened to be good at doing, but after several times of being perfectly able to and in the right to do so, she hardly believed Loki would actually seriously harm her. He had shown her kindness, in his way.

All of this made him an enigma to her, and she did indeed love a good mystery. Even a scary one.

Her eyes met his for a split second before hers darted quickly away, face reddening.

"I think it's time we broke out of this prison," she declared, shooting up abruptly.

"Agreed," he said, standing as well. "And I think I know just the thing to get us out of here."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Well, this was a particularly difficult to write. I debated back and forth to decide whether I was going to include the events that unfold in the latter part of the chapter. Everything is happen very quickly for Halla and Loki, and there is still a lot of ground to cover before the story draws to a close. Or at least, this part of their story.

UPDATE: Just a few changes to this chapter, nothing big, added in a sentence or two about Loki instructing her in magic and Halla's suspicions of Amora (but is she right?).

BTW- BIG shout out and thank you to you guys, the readers! If you can find the time to send in a quick review, please do! I really would like to see some constructive feedback.

And now, our story continues….

**PART ONE**

Even he was surprised he had got her to jump. The girl, scared out of her wits, protested strongly when he told her the plan, crossing her arms and even raising her voice slightly to tell him of the supposed ridiculousness of his solution. She calmed down almost immediately, though he wished she hadn't. There was something almost quaint about her ignorance of the true order of the universe, and the forceful way in which she made it evident. Refreshing.

She was wrong, however, and he was right. As they took the leap, he could feel a strange whirling sensation, similar to that which he experienced when he travelled on the Bifrost, that told him they were passing through to another realm. It felt different from the other two times they had "switched worlds," and in a matter of moments, his hopes were realized.

Focusing his energy once again, he called upon the scarce elements he could grasp, and let it burst out of him in the void, air, water, fire, and earth all in one. He heard a sort of _scream,_ though the sound was not of any living being he had come across.

Black swirling mists turned into blindingly sharp light, then light turned into scorched ceiling stones. He leapt up from where he had been knocked unconscious on the ground, head spinning and fighting for concentration. He tried to pull the same trick he had just performed in the vortex, but then, it didn't seem necessary.

The thing was convulsing in midair, screeching and reeling in pain. It glared at him with its red eyes, tried to grab at him with its clawed hand, before collapsing and then, like a wisp of smoke, dissipated, leaving nothing in its wake.

"Damn it!" he yelled, kicking a nearby stool. He seethed in anger for a moment before remembering that he had been travelling with a young half-mortal woman. She was there, right behind him, struggling to get up.

He offered her a hand, which she took. "What…what was that?" she said, eyes wide and focused on the place where the shadow beast had been.

"I have no idea," he admitted, as the footsteps of the guards became louder. Five of them rushed down the staircase, into the room, and seized Halla.

She cried out in pain as the guard wrenched her shoulder back; he could her a _snap_. "What doing you think you're doing, you fools? She's done nothing wrong!"

"We were told-"

"Whatever it was, it is clearly false, even _you _should be able to see that she is no beast! That beast is dead! Go! _Now_!" he yelled in his most ominous tone. The idiots looked at each other with blank eyes, shrugged, bowed, and stalked off. Halla was back down on the floor, crying, cradling her left shoulder.

He knelt down next to her, and, drawing up what energy he could, healed the torn ligament. Her head snapped up, and they watched as the green light emanating from his hand did its work.

The twisting, glowing green spirals wrapped themselves around her shoulder and formed a sort of blanket over it. The tension in her body gradually faded as his magic healed her. Confident that she was alright, he gently pulled back his hand and flicked away the last of the green tendrils with a twirl of the hand. "Is that better?"

She smiled broadly up at him. "Y-yes! I don't know how to-"

He held up a hand. "I think we've both been through enough-"

A deep, angry voice rang out just then. "_Loki!_ _What_ _are you_ _doing_ to _my daughter?"_

Sighing, Loki stood and turned to face his favourite person. He smiled. "Oh, hello, Balder. Since you asked, we just-"

The Lord of Light shoved Loki off to the side and bent down to inspect his progeny. As he grabbed her by the shoulders and took stock of her appearance, he saw the girl frown and wince slightly. "Are you alright, Halla?"

_So they aren't best of friends. That would explain why she's always with Sif instead of him. All the better for me._ "Yes, I'm fine now-"

"What did _he_ do to you?" Balder growled.

She shot him an indignant look. "_He?_ The _Prince_ didn't do anything, _father_! He saved me! He saved _both_ of us!"

Balder glared at him, bright blue eyes darkening. "I believe the trial he put you through was of his own making."

Fury welled up inside him, but instead Loki chuckled. "Oh, you _believe_ so, do you? What purpose would I have-"

Balder waved a hand at him. "Enough! Leave my sight."

The anger nearly boiled over. "Pardon? This is not your-"

"_Leave!_"

"_Father!_" a strong, female voice rang out, silencing both of them. "Do not presume to speak in such a way to your future king, who has indeed just saved us both from a veritable _demon_! You should make amends."

Halla's bright eyes were alight with rage, from more than just her father's transgression, he guessed. Balder's mouth dropped open, eyes wide in disbelief.

Loki started to laugh. "Oh my dear, you have just made me laugh harder than I have in quite some time! For that, I should reward you!"

Balder stood and glared at Loki from his greater height, eyes alight with feebly controlled rage. "I warn you, trickster, stay away from my daughter." He stared at him for a moment more before striding out of the room.

Loki bent forward and sneered at his back, wishing he could grab a sword and stick it through Balder's superior little heart and _twist _till he ran red with blood.

"Please, let me apologize for him," came Halla's slightly frantic voice from behind.

Loki grimaced. "_You _should not apologize for that dense oaf. He would think it beneath you, and we wouldn't want to get you into trouble with Father, now would we?" He stalked off to the staircase, to go to _his_ father, who he was sure waited for him. "I will tell the Allfather you are resting, but someone will come to get you soon to take you to him, so that you may tell your side of events. Take that time to gather your strength," he called to her.

"Wait!" She ran towards him, pretty blue eyes determined. "Thank you for saving me. I am in your debt." She smiled earnestly, something he did not often see directed towards him.

He raised an eyebrow. "Don't let your father hear you say that."

**PART TWO**

"Again!"

Sif tossed the sword at her, and Halla caught it gracefully with one hand. She was getting better at this. The dark-haired beauty across from her had noticed it too. "Your skill at arms grows every day, Lady Halla. You have made me proud."

She bowed her head slightly. "Thank you, Lady Sif, but I am no lady," said Halla as she prepared for Sif's attack. Bringing herself into a strong stance, she balanced the sword in her grip. The weight of the blade had always made her feel powerful, made her forget her status as a sinful woman amongst the villagers. It made her feel _good._

Sif was grinning; Halla decided to wipe it off her face.

In a flurry of movement, the two women clashed, steel ringing out sharply with each blow. Every time Halla would gain a modicum of ground, Sif would retake it and advance on her threefold. Soon, Halla had to defend herself vigorously as blow after blow rained down on her, until suddenly she lay flat on the ground, her blade the only thing protecting her neck from the goddess of war.

Sif smirked and drew back her sword. "You still have much to-"

In a flash, Halla sprang up and brought the point of her sword to her enemy's neck. Sif's jaw dropped for a moment, before a broad smile broke out on her face and she laughed in earnest. "You have listened well, Halla. Always keep your eye on the enemy and never let your guard down."

It was Halla's turn to draw back her weapon. Sif gestured to the stone wall enclosing the field in which they practiced daily, and the two women sat down opposite each other, armour clanking as they did so. Halla pulled her hair out from its secure bun and began to un-braid it, feeling the tension from its tightness dissipate.

Sif was watching her. "For a Midgardian, you are quite adept. Where did you learn your swordsmanship?" she asked with a slight grin.

Halla's breath caught. Her father's soft blue eyes and deep voice came back to her, large hands gripping the pommel of his old yet deftly made broadsword. It had seen many battles, yet seemed all the stronger for it, as had her father.

"_Now, raise it up, and _slash," was his common command, which he demonstrated to her by lifting his blade high and then swiftly bringing back down to slice open the poor vegetable he had chosen to represent a person's head.

Halla had clumsily done the same many times, only just nicking the end of hers most of the time. Still, her father had always smiled before shouting "Again!" just as Sif had. Eventually, she had mastered the skill, and many others.

"I am sorry to speak of something that upsets you so-" Sif was saying.

"No! No, I was lost in thought. I learned from my father."

"He must have been a great warrior."

"He was." Halla could sense the tears were coming again, and turned her head to take care of them quickly, fidgeting with a piece of armour to disguise her action.

When she turned back, the warrior seemed not to have noticed. Her eyes squinted. "Though I thought women were not allowed to take up arms on Midgard."

"Well, normally, they are not. The town priest, Old Snorri, we called him, constantly badgered my parents about raising me _correctly_."

"What is _correct_?" Sif spat as she said the word.

Halla smiled. _This is why she likes me. We are of a similar mind regarding these subjects. _"He meant being feminine. Obeying. Obeying your parents, especially your father, and as you get older, obeying your husband in all matters, and taking care of his children."

Sif looked as if she would be sick. "Parents, I can understand perfectly, but I could never blindly obey a man. Never!"

Halla smiled. "You sound like my mother."

"Then your mother was a smart woman." The warrior goddess cocked her head slightly, her bright eyes suddenly alight with interest. "Tell me, my lady Halla, do you have someone of your own back on Midgard? Someone you are expected to obey?"

"You mean…a _romantic_ someone?" Sif nodded. "Well…no. I have, in the past, but…."

She smirked. "It did not end well. I understand."

"He died."

Sif froze. "I am sorry, Lady Halla."

"He would never have expected me to obey," she continued, fearful that her love should be maligned in Sif's eyes. "He respected my ways, as his were not so different from mine." She smiled, remembering her Roman love's tanned skin and dark, curly hair, contrasting so beautifully with her own light features. _We were so close, so close to freedom. _

"We were outcasts, as were our families. We believed in the gods of old, as our ancestors did. We did not accept the bleak teachings of the White Christ. His own father had been burned as a heretic by the Church of Rome, where he was from."

Sif's face looked set in stone. Halla smiled. "I am sorry, Sif, I am blathering on about love when I should be focusing on the arts of war."

"Do not let love get the best of you, Halla," she said. "It is not in itself evil, but…I have seen the way you look at him."

Halla started. "Look at _who_?"

"The Prince." Her mouth was set in a firm line.

"You mean…Loki?" She laughed, only vaguely aware of the possibility that there was fluttering in her stomach at the mention of his name. He had taken it upon himself to continue her instruction in the magical arts. She progressed quickly, according to him, though she still thought her sword the best method of protection. "You misunderstand, he is merely-"

"Do not lie to my face, Halla. I can see the way you look at him." She sighed. "If this is lust, satisfy it soon, lest it become more than it is. If it is something more…promise me you will stay away from him."

Halla looked down at the little tufts of green grass springing up from beneath the wall. She brushed them over lightly with her foot, considering Sif's words. This was not the first time she had been so warned. "I cannot do that, Sif. Despite what you think, he is my friend, and…it would not be honourable to abandon him based on the wishes of others." She raised her head to wait for the goddess's response.

Sif shook her head. "I wish you had said otherwise, though it is not my decision to make. You have given me an honest answer. That I can respect." She inclined her head.

"Thank you, my lady Sif."

In the distance, Halla saw a tall, blonde figure moving towards them, and saw that it was Thor. She grimaced.

"Thor's coming," she said.

Sif's eyebrows shot up, and she stood immediately. Thor, who was now only a few paces away from them, gave a broad smile. "Sif, my friend! How are you on this fine day?"

She smiled. "I am very well, thank you. I was training with Halla." Halla smirked. _Take your own advice, Sif._

Thor turned to her. "Good day, Lady Halla! How fare you?"

"Well, thank you," she said coldly.

Sif shot her a look before continuing. "We were practicing at swordplay. Halla has improved muchly. I am very impressed by her skills."

Thor smiled. "I am sure Lady Sif has been instructing you well, Halla. Have you been enjoying your time with us in Asgard?"

She looked at him suspiciously. "Yes."

"Has Loki been showing you the wonders we have to offer?" He smirked, blue eyes lighting up in jest.

"I suppose, though we haven't spent much time together."

"Oh, I think not! Nearly every time I see him, you are there as well."

_Yes, and every time I see you, you make another ill-conceived jibe at Loki's expense and treat him as if he were of no importance_. "I suppose that has been so."

Sif was glaring at her, green eyes wide. "I advised her to spend time with some others, in addition to your brother."

Thor glanced at Sif quickly. "Yes, I would be careful around my brother, Lady Halla. He is a trickster, and does things that hurt others, though he doesn't mean it." Sif rolled her eyes. "Also he is married," Thor finished quickly.

Both Sif and Halla started. "What?" Halla said, indignant. "Nothing of that sort is going on between-"

"I'm sorry, I have not meant to cause offense-"

Just then a voice rang out, deep and clear. "Have I stumbled upon a private gathering, or is my presence allowable in this instance?"

Through the trees surrounding the practice area came Loki with an arrogant smile upon his lips. He came to the wall and stopped.

"Brother," he said. His smile widened as he turned to Sif. "Lady Sif." The goddess frowned and gave him a cool glare.

He then turned to Halla, and his smile changed into one of genuine happiness. "Good day, Halla. I thought you would be with your father at this time of day."

"He is preoccupied," she lied.

"Well, all the better. Would you care to walk with me?" He proffered an arm, which she happily accepted, and helped her over the wall. Both of them shared a mischievous grin, knowing full well the thoughts of the two they left behind. Saying her goodbyes, Halla walked with Loki back to the treeline.

"Are you truly enjoying your time here, Halla?" he asked.

"So you _were _eavesdropping!"

"I like to think of it more as…the gathering of useful information. Particularly when what's being said pertains directly to me."

"You know I don't-"

"Of course. Thank you for saying what you did. Not many people would."

"I just…if they have a problem with your behaviour, they should address it to you directly, not your friend. It isn't honourable."

He chuckled. "They have, my dear. Have no fear of that." He took a sharp intake of breath. "Though…I wouldn't want you to sacrifice your newfound friends for my sake."

_Well, that wasn't a very good lie. _"Yes you would. And if they are indeed my friends, then they will accept whomever I choose to-"

Before she could finish her thought, shouts rang out from behind them.

There it was. The black thing. And it was attacking Sif and Thor.

She bolted into a swift run, drawing her blade even though she knew it would have no effect. She lept over the wall and joined her comrades.

Sif and Thor had been reduced to merely dodging the attacks, though were quickly losing ground. Halla could feel the magic rising up inside her, threatening to take control. She gripped her sword tighter, attempting to control it as Loki had instructed her to do.

Suddenly, Loki's form appeared beside her. He stepped in front of her, said something she couldn't hear, and green light blinded her temporarily. She heard the familiar inhuman screech of the thing and Loki's guttural shout as he forced his magic on it. Her vision had recovered by the time the thick tendrils of green light had constricted around the thing, forming a cage. Loki was doubled over from the effort, breath haggard.

"Finally, we have it!" Sif shouted. Thor smiled broadly and clapped her on the back.

"I'm fine, oh no need to thank me," Loki muttered, pulling himself up.

"You have done well, brother," Thor called. "We should inform father."

"You do that. I'm going to stay here and try to find out something useful from this…thing."

"How? It has no speech," Sif said.

"Oh, I have my ways," he smirked rather evilly, apparently doing his best to disgust Sif. By the look on her face, it had worked.

They hurried off. He circled around it, shocking it occasionally with an extra dose of magic. It screeched nearly the entire time, a sound that made Halla's ears feel as if they were bleeding.

"Why are you here?" he said, in a voice that reminded her of his father. When it didn't answer him, he let loose his magic upon it. Halla felt no pity; in fact, she found herself _enjoying_ it. The delicious malice and hatred grew inside her by the second, and she imagined it was her who tortured the beast, shocking it with her power. It felt _exhilarating_!

"I asked, why are you here?" No answer. "I grow weary already of this, demon." With a flick of his hand, a large bolt of energy shot from him into the tendrils of the cage and from there, green light rocketed through the body of the thing. Its loose shape writhed in pain. Her hands clenched in sheer delight.

"Do you think I care about your pain, you _filth_?" He pointed at Halla. "You have killed this woman's family! _Her entire village_! And on top of that, you have threatened Asgard, bringing me down upon you." He shocked it again. "_Who sent you_?"

A red space opened up in what was probably its head. Through it came a soft hissing sound that sounded out three syllables.

"A…mor…a…"

With a slight puff of smoke, it was gone, though the cage still stood, sizzling with energy. Neither of them said anything. A light wind whistled through the open space of the practice ground, tossing up the stray leaves in its path.

Halla was staring at him intently, passion suddenly frozen, waiting for him to react.

He breathed in slowly. "Amora," he whispered, as if the name was foreign to him. "Amora," he said again, this time louder. "Amora. _Amora_. AMORA!"

A bestial roar erupted from him, and a green bolt of light shot through the air straight at the stone wall. It obliterated the area where it had hit, causing pieces of rock and smoke to travel through the air.

Halla waited until the dust had settled before asking, through painfully clenched teeth, "Who is Amora?"

His head turned slightly to her, his mouth opening simultaneously. After a few moments, he said nothing, and in a flash, he was gone.

**PART THREE**

Amora had vanished before anyone could get to her. It was assumed that she had watched the whole thing, and, upon the revelation of her name, and fled Asgard, to where, no one could be sure.

After leading a few expeditions to try and get her scent, Loki had temporarily given up the search for the Enchantress. Halla had witnessed his descent into maddened confusion, and had been unable to reach him for days. She had discovered that this hellbeast of a woman, _Amora_, was thought to have been romantically linked with the prince for a number of years; some even surmised that he was in on it and purposefully threw the search off to protect her. Halla thought that ridiculous. He paced for six days and six nights through the halls of the palace, trying to discover a means to capturing the elusive bitch, to no avail. Finally, his wife Sigyn had coaxed him to bed, where he lay dead to the world for a day.

When she finally saw him again, it was a two weeks from the day of the practice ground attack. He still looked miserable, though less haggard and drawn. He was not wearing his heavy armour but instead just a simple tunic with pretty green knotwork patterns on the neck and sleeves. His trousers were green as well.

_The man likes green. _He was leaning over the side of a balcony off of one of the many galleries of the palace, staring out into the city. The sounds of its hustle and bustle could be heard from a distance, and she heard the indistinct cries of a merchant selling his wares.

"I like seeing you more relaxed," she said, brushing back a thick lock of blonde hair that had escaped from one of her braids, though it quickly began to swirl around her head again in the breeze.

He turned up to face the sun. "Do not let appearances deceive you. I am anything but relaxed."

She leaned on the balcony's edge a few paces away from where he stood. "This is not your fault."

He snorted. "Isn't it? I was the closest to her, I should have been able to see through her charms to the real _wickedness_ inside of her."

"Apparently no one did."

"But _I _am a _Prince of Asgard_! I _should _have seen it!" He slammed his fist down on the railing, voice reverberating off the walls of the enclosed balcony.

The whole structure seemed to shake with that gesture. Halla swallowed. "You cannot reverse time-"

"Don't be so sure."

"I don't blame you for this."

"_And everyone else does_!" he snarled, turning his hateful gaze to her.

She had come to stand much closer to him during their conversation, and was shocked by his demeanour. So much anger and pain came rushing out as she had never seen before. It scared her, then made her feel extremely sad. He was probably right, even his own family seemed to believe so. According to Balder, Odin had had such words with him as to make even the sturdiest tremble. Which was probably the reason for his obsession with finding the wench. And Thor of course would be no source of comfort for him, though he did normally come to his brother's defense when things got rough, Halla had to admit.

"Then they are fools," she said with purpose and strength, hoping somehow to imbue that onto him.

He examined her for a moment, face still locked in that horrible gaze, before he started to laugh. "Oh, my dear Halla. My dear Halla. I do so love-"

Just then, a horrible screech resounded throughout the gallery, and for a moment Halla's heart stopped. _It's back! _

But no, it wasn't back. It was a woman's dreadful sob, and then a few hushed voices to attend her. What were they saying? It was too far away.

Loki's nose was crinkled. "For a moment, I thought…"

"Me too."

"But that…." He started to stride forward, haltingly at first, then with greater purpose. As she followed him into the palace and down the gallery, the harsh sobs grew louder.

"What is going on?" she cried, heart pounding, beginning to recognize those sounds.

"Sigyn?" Loki called anxiously. His strides became quicker and quicker, and Halla rushed to keep up with him. She had heard these cries from women many times over in her village. Sometimes the cold would catch them, or disease, or sometimes they would simply fall asleep and never wake up.

They turned into the greater hallway, the one that led to Loki and Sigyn's rooms. She knelt on the floor, screaming in agony, attended by several servants who tried to speak soothing words to her. Her hair was down and flew about her in a tangled mess as she grasped at it with fevered hands. She was in her nightshift, a beautiful white garment embroidered with exquisite patterns, now tarnished by rips and tears.

And her face was too. It seemed she had scratched part of her face in her anguish, marring her lovely pale skin. Blood slowly trickled down onto her neck and chest, making a red line at the top of her nightshift. She screamed anew as she saw Loki approach.

"Sigyn-" he said as he ran to her, panic tightening his vocal cords.

She reached out to him with shaking arms. "_LOKI! LOKI!_" She was overcome by another bout of sobbing. "_LOKI! THEY'RE DEAD! DEAD! THEY'RE DEAD!_"

"What…." He tried to grasp her arms. "Sigyn who-"

"_MY BABIES!_"

He stood up immediately. From behind, Halla saw his entire body become rigid. "What are you talking about."

"_MY BABIES…ARE DEAD!_"

"_WHAT ARE YOU SAYING WOMAN?_" he bellowed as he bent down swiftly and shook her violently by the arms. "_WHAT ARE YOU SAYING TO ME?_"

All she could do was stare up at him in blind terror, face streaked in tears and blood. Suddenly, he pulled back his hand and hit her so hard across the cheek that she was knocked backwards onto the floor. Her servants quickly surrounded her, and he threw a few of them to the side and grasped at his wife until Halla got a hold of him.

"_Get off of me!_" he hissed, green eyes mad with rage as he turned to look at her as she held both of his shoulders firmly in her arms, before quickly encircling them around his upper body, pinning his arms down at his sides. He tried to shake her off several times, and nearly succeeded, before losing his energy all at once and collapsing on the marble floor of the palace hallway.

A pause. Suddenly stood back up, this time successfully shaking her off, and walked steadily towards his sons' rooms, all the time whispering "No, no, no" to himself in a reassured, pleasant tone, as if this were all just an elaborate prank.

Halla raced after him, and lost him for a split second when he turned a corner. Perhaps he was right, perhaps Sigyn had been mistaken. She had not heard one report of any citizen of Asgard dying in all the months she had been in the realm, and she knew that everyone was practically immortal. She prayed to whomever would listen for this not to be real. But still, the panic gripped her by the throat. She nearly ran into his still form on the threshold of a large, spacious, airy room.

There was one bed, near to the door, and a couch by the fireplace. In each lay a young boy, and they were both asleep. The one on the couch looked slightly older than the one in the bed, and had a book lying across his chest; she recognized it as one of Loki's. At first, they looked so peaceful, pale faces so lovely she could hardly believe they were dead. But then she saw that they were too pale, too still to be alive, their black hair limp, and somehow lifeless.

Loki slowly moved towards them, one foot at a time. He got to the boy in the bed, who Halla had met once or twice, called Vali. Loki whispered "Vali. You have slept too long. It's time to wake up." He turned back to her. "They must just be asleep. Children don't die in Asgard," he said casually, with an easy smile on his face.

It ripped her heart to shreds. He turned back to them. "Vali. Narvi. Wake up. Now, please. Come, this isn't funny, your mother is quite worried…Vali, Narvi. Wake up. Wake up." He paused. He went to each dead boy and shook the corpse as violently as he had shaken their mother, and shouted "Wake up," until he collapsed on the floor in front of the couch, gripping his head and screaming their names, over and over and over, asking why, why, why.

Halla went to him and held him in her arms, as she had her mother when she had lost her other children to the mysterious illness that sometimes swept infants away in the middle of the night like a demonic thief. _Could this be that illness? _Halla thought faintly as she tried to calm her friend.

She became aware that there were people around them now, and through tear-filled eyes saw that two of them were Balder and Odin, the king. Propriety escaped her in that moment, and she cared not: "You fools, get away from him! Get away from him!"

**PART FOUR**

In the days that followed, everyone made their condolences; Odin even declared a week of mourning for his grandsons. None of that seemed to reach Loki; he remained dead to the world, to a much greater degree than he had when he was attempting to track Amora. That witch probably had something to do with this tragedy, she was convinced of it, even though she did not know the woman in the least. She didn't see him but for once, when she had come in with Balder to make her formal condolence. It had meant nothing, it was hollow and empty coming from her father. He was saddened by the sudden, inexplicable deaths of the two children, but she did not see any real sympathy for their father.

He had been sitting by the fire of his own darkened room, leaning against the side of the great green and gold chair he sat in. He did not look up at him the entire time Balder spoke, though she could tell he heard him, somewhere. When it came time to for her to speak, she found she could not. The words caught in her throat. Even if she had said anything, no words could match the pain she felt for him.

She had thought back on those times that she had met his children, although they were brief. They were happy and bright, playful as young ones are, yet they were possessed of an early maturity, a good sign for the coming years. Their father had always spent as much time with them as was possible, though separate from their mother. He seemed truly at ease when he was with them, and was a good father. Much better than his own, if Halla's opinion counted for anything.

But now, they were gone. Suddenly, and for no reason. He had been right; children do not die in Asgard. No one had any explanation, though some suspected Amora. Halla wouldn't put it past her, and in any case, such suspicion was enough to put to rest the question of Loki's loyalties, at least for the time being. For that, she was grateful.

When Halla had finally spoken the words "I'm sorry" in the most pathetic, weak voice she had ever heard come out of her mouth, Loki had looked up at her. His eyes glistened, his mouth dropped open, and he smiled at her. _He needs help_ was the only thing she could think of in that moment. Nothing else mattered; her heart broke again.

Just then, she had been ushered out of the room by some attendant or another. He slowly turned his gaze back to the fire as the door was closed in her face. _I must reach him,_ she thought, _and soon._

Sigyn had been worse. She had not gotten out of bed and had not spoken to anyone. She merely lay there and stared out of the window, between the slit in the curtains which had let in a small sliver of light. As she and her father had left, a servant had shut it.

Her heart had crumpled for Sigyn too. She had seen the pain of losing children so many times before in her village…she thought she wouldn't have to see it happen here, in this wonderful place, so close and personal, to someone she cared about so much….

Halla was making her way along the edge of the palace, on one of the higher walkways, wind tossing up her skirts and making her hair fly about her. Today she had chosen a red gown with a gold tassel, with fine embroidery along the hems and sleeves. There was a larger pattern on the bottom; it was in fact a scene of a Norseman fighting a giant. The figures were the most realistic she had ever seen, the expressions so lifelike, the swordfight seeming to continue right before her eyes, instead of being frozen in a stitching.

She was so enraptured by the wind and the clouds and the far away blackness of space that she did not hear footsteps approach.

She heard shuffling; she turned around quickly, heart skipping a beat, and instinctively her hand went to her side, though there was no weapon there for it to hold. Instead of an enemy, however, she found a profoundly sad, incredibly lost and broken man, in need of help.

His hair was a mess, his clothing the same as that horrible day, though someone had wrapped his cape around him. He stood there like the green death, waiting.

Her face nearly broke out into a smile. "Loki," she said.

A long moment passed between them. She tried to read his emotions as he stood there, merely staring. Finally, he turned his head to a nearby bench, and they sat.

They existed there in silence for a good long time. She reached out a hand, and he grasped it, holding it tight.

"When I awoke this morning, I knew I had to find you," he said with surprising cadence, though his voice was a bit scratchy. "I'm sorry if I am bothe-"

She squeezed his hand. "You are not bothering me, Loki. This would…this couldn't…."

"I still cannot accept it," he continued. "It doesn't feel as if it's happened, and yet I feel as if I haven't ceased weeping for days."

He paused. His eyes began glistening as he continued to stare at the ground, listless. "I still cannot see how it happened, Halla. These things simply don't happen in Asgard!" His voice was becoming a shout. "_They don't_ _happen in Asgard!_"

His calm face collapsed into a tempest of grief and anger, and wracking sobs started. "Halla…when they were born…I…I held them in my arms, and I _swore…I swore…_I would never, ever, ever, ever let anything happen to them-" His breath caught in a horrible, harsh way. "I _failed, _Halla. I _failed._"

She caught him in her arms as he sank down, attempting to keep her own tears back for his sake. She did not know how to answer him; her mother had never said such things to her. She supposed now that she had been reserved for her daughter's sake, and had broken down where Halla couldn't see her. She wished she hadn't, so that she might have some idea of how to comfort him. Though there was probably no way that would be sufficient, that wouldn't sound horrible and awful and _hollow_.

Slowly, his sobs ceased, and his breathing slowed. He had fallen asleep; the emotion had been too much, and she doubted he had slept much in recent days. She sat there, his head in her lap, contemplating.

She must have drifted off, because before she knew it, it was the late afternoon and a gruff voice was calling her name.

"Halla! Wake up!"

A great shadow loomed above, and at first she thought it was Balder, and scowled. However, when she turned her head towards the offending voice, it was a distraught Thor. His normal joviality was gone, replaced by deep sadness. At that realization, Halla softened. _Of course he would be affected by the death of his nephews, Halla._

"Good day, Thor." He came around to her side of the bench and sat down heavily. He looked at Loki in her lap, who had not woken during the exchange.

He smiled sadly at her. "Thank you for being here for him. You are a good, gallant woman, Halla Baldersdottir."

She returned the smile. "Thank you, Thor. And it's Sveinsdottir."

He inclined his head. "My apologies."

They sat there for a while, watching the sunset in silence. She was still astonished by it; it was so brilliant, so different from those on Midgard. The colours it was painted with were somehow more vibrant and touched her heart in a way that made her hear music different from that which she heard back home. She loved it.

"You care for my brother greatly, do you not?" Thor asked, breaking her reverie.

"Yes. I love him." She said the words without thinking, but it was too late now.

"Mmm," he said importantly, with a raise of his head. "I won't tell."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

They turned their gazes back to the sunset, eagerly awaiting a new dawn.

Elsewhere, a golden-haired sorceress made her plans in an underground lair, lusting after the power only the sword of Balder could give her.

**AND SO ENDS THE FIRST PART OF HALLA'S JOURNEY**


	4. Chapter 4

**PART ONE**

Balder stood before her like a stone statue, unmoving in his convictions. His arms were crossed firmly over his chest, and his gaze did not remove itself from her as he spoke, no matter how she glared. "You _will_ cease your relationship with Loki."

Halla raised an eyebrow. "How many times, Balder? I will do no such thing, especially now. He needs help, and apparently I'm the only one willing to give it."

"Halla! He is _using _you!"

"Using me? For comfort, yes-"

"No!" he shouted. He sighed deeply, closing his eyes. "I think he…he wants to know why you're here."

"Well, so do I!"

"This is different. Everything Loki does, he does for himself. Do not be fooled by his grief."

"You are a paranoid fool, _father,_" Halla said, biting her words. This unending obsession everyone seemed to have with her relationship with Loki had started out rather comical, if a bit irritating, and now had reached new heights of infuriating. She knew he wasn't the best person, but he had just lost his children. She had already called him friend; she would not abandon him now.

Though perhaps Balder had a point. Loki asked her many a question about her time on Midgard, her family, and had been particularly interested in the sword she had used to defend herself against the Enchantress' shadow beast. She had told him the truth; that it was something that had always been in the house, and that her parents had given her special instructions on when to use it. Nothing seemed overly special about it, although whoever the swordsmith was happened to be brilliant at his craft. It was truly a beautiful thing.

She wished her father, Sif, everybody would stop this incessant chatter about Loki, in any case. "I wish to rest now."

Balder shook his head. "Halla."

"Please, Father."

He smiled woefully at her. She had found that by calling him _father, _Halla could get him to do whatever she desired. She felt no guilt over this; Svein was her father, not this stranger who thought it appropriate to dictate the course of her life, the life of a woman grown! "As you wish, Halla." He hugged her gently; she had to stop herself from cringing at his touch. "Please, keep in mind what I've said. Try to spend some time with Thor. He thinks highly of you."

"Oh, as if I would be interested in _him,_" Halla said as her father stalked from her room, small smile on his face. "If you think that for one instant that's going to happen-"

But he was already gone. Halla sat down on the chair by her fireplace and watched the embers slowly burn. This should have been a relaxing act, but instead, she could only think of a burning wood, a burning home, a pair of burning eyes-

She jolted from her stupor by a rapping at the door. "Come in," she called, half-expecting to see Balder stride back in. Instead, Loki pushed open the door and gave her a cocky grin. "Good afternoon, my lady."

"Loki!" she said, standing up and going over to greet him, giving him a hug. "It is so good to see you."

"Well, I can't say I've ever heard that sincerely said before," he said. He was back in his armour, his hair neat and beard shaved. "I have just been to see the king. We had some rather official, rather boring business to attend to."

He swept past her and took a seat on the chair opposite where she had been staring into the dying fire, his cloak settling over the side. He seemed perfectly himself. The dangerous expression, half-grin, and controlled posture were all back in force. It worried her immensely.

"How are you?" she said, retaking her spot across from him. Almost immediately, his face dropped, devastating grief showing itself, but only for a moment. Then, he snapped back.

"I'm well, thank you."

"I heard Sigyn moved-"

"Yes, well, that was expected," he said through gritted teeth, without looking at her. "Our marriage has been finished for a long while. It was clearly time for us to move on with our lives."

"Perhaps that was for the best, then." Halla tried to catch his gaze, but he wasn't having it. He crossed his legs and angled his body away from her, towards the door. She leaned slightly towards him. "I'm truly glad to see you looking better. You had me a bit worried, I will admit."

He smiled. "That wasn't my intention, I assure you."

"Of course it wasn't, I never thought that. I just meant…." Halla reached over and grabbed his hand. "I'm honoured you came to me in your time of need."

Now he looked at her. His green eyes glistened, and he squeezed her hand, which looked so small when enveloped by his. His touch was warm, and she felt the warmth crawl from her hand right to her core. She glanced back up at him and saw that he hadn't broken his gaze. Her breath quickened; she couldn't look away from him. He began stroking his finger up and down her palm, before venturing farther up her arm. She inched towards him, and he did the same, his hand reaching the top of her dress. He pulled it down, delicate red fabric yielding easily; her breasts fell out without anything to keep them back. She took an involuntary breath, her womanhood tingling with desire, anticipation, and moaned softly. He raised an eyebrow, mouth falling open ever so slightly. He brushed her nipple lightly with his thumb, a devilish smile broadening on his face as his rough skin moved against her. The sensation threatened to overwhelm; her back arched as he continued his work. Gently, his thumb came to a stop, and he took her by the shoulder. She let him pull her towards him, their faces becoming slowly but surely closer and closer and closer until she felt his breath, could taste the strange, sweet scent he used-

When suddenly, a serving woman came in, carrying a stack of firewood. When she saw them, she gave a soft "Oh!" and began to back out of the room, but Halla stopped her, shrugging back on the top of her dress. "It's fine, Hilda, come through."

They both sat back in their chairs and let Hilda finish her work in silence. It would not be wise to further incriminate themselves.

Soon enough, the maid finished and scurried off, clearly happy to be leaving their company. Halla stared at the floor for a few moments before turning back to Loki. His gaze still lay upon her.

"Ill-timing," he said, forefinger placed between his nose and upper lip, elbow resting on the arm of his seat, eyes filled with desire.

Halla smiled and stood, heart aflutter. She walked over to her window and the small table beneath it. Light played on the silver wine jug that rested on its surface and the goblets beside it. She picked up one and filled it nearly to the brim. The wine of the Asgardians was incredible, to say the least. She had tasted nothing finer on Midgard.

She took a sip and looked over her shoulder at him, catching him staring at her arse. She smirked. "Like what you see?"

He returned her smirk, a smirk which would have scared her weeks ago, but now that she knew him…it just made her have sinful feminine urges, as Old Snorri would have said. She turned back and took another sip.

"I'm going to ask you a question, and I want you to answer me truthfully."

"Must I?"

"Are you using me for information?"

"What kind of information could I possibly get from you?"

"Why do you care so much about my time on Midgard? And don't tell me that it's because you're thinking of visiting, it's clear what you think of my home." She turned towards him; his face was the very picture of innocence. "Why is that damned sword so important? Is that why the monster came for me?"

He was about to say something, a lie most likely, but, after his eyes swept across her from head to toe, decided otherwise. He frowned and came to her, grasping her shoulder, staring deeply into her eyes. "Halla. I needed to know why you were brought here, why now, and why Balder hadn't claimed you until _it _attacked. I cannot tell you why, but do believe me when I say that it is of the upmost importance."

She wrenched herself from his grip. "You just wanted to spy on my father. You wanted to gain information about him that would be useful to you, for whatever devious purpose."

His face fell. "That's not what-"

"I mean nothing to you," she growled. "Maybe you thought if you could get me to spread my legs, then I'd be hopelessly in love with you, that I'd tell you all my father's secrets!" she screamed, her whole world about to crumble down around her. "Well, Prince of Asgard, if I had anything to tell you, I would have already done it! This whole ruse was unnecessary." She felt hot tears slip down the side of her face. "My father, _everyone_ was right about you! You only care for yourself and your own agenda, you never cared for me, my well-being. How could I have been so _blind?!_" She slammed her goblet down on the table, its contents spilling all over the rug beneath it. A fury was building within her that she had only known a handful of times before. "To think, you could _use _me in such a way-"

His eyes were filled with desperation. "Halla, please, let me explain-"

"_Get out! Out of my sight!_"

He grabbed her roughly by the shoulders. "Please, Halla, no-"

"_NOW!_"

"Please!" His fingers were clenching her so tightly that it hurt. "You are the only one I have right now."

She wanted to scream at him, but his words had found their way into her heart, cooling her anger if only a little. "You have your family, do you not?"

"They…."

"And your wife-oh, but no, you drove her away a long, long time ago. What, did her presence become tiresome after a few months? Did she lose her figure after she had your-" She was just sentient enough to stop herself from finishing that last thought, but it was too late. The damage was done.

He flinched as if she had punched him square in the face. His eyes searched around, as if looking for something, and he slowly relaxed his grip on her. His mouth opened and closed a few times before his face seemed to freeze over.

"Loki, I am so, so sorry. I didn't-I don't think…Loki, please just look at me." She felt tears welling up behind her eyes and her vision blurred. "I am so sorry."

"Maybe you're right," he said, eyes still darting about. "I am no good, it _is _my fault, I've done this-"

"No, no, no, no, no, no!" She took his face in her hands. "It was not your fault, it was no one's fault-"

Suddenly, he stepped away from her, releasing his hands from her shoulders, and strode out of the room, cloak billowing behind him. She ran after him, pulling up her skirts.

"Loki, stop," she called, as he rounded the corner into another, wider hallway. "Loki! Loki, _stop!_"

And he did, so quickly she nearly ran into him. She caught her breath, trying to find the words she would say to make it all better. "I don't blame you, those words…those words were said in anger. You must understand, I don't like being tricked."

He bowed his head and turned slowly to face her. "You may be right, all the same," he said with a woeful smile.

"I disagree. I just want to know what's going on in my life. That's all."

He cocked his head. "You are truly on my side, aren't you?"

She took a deep breath. "I've gone too far to turn back now, haven't I?"

After a short pause, he laughed boisterously. "Verily! Well, they've already accepted you as one of their own. That's more than I've ever gotten." He took her hand. "I'm sorry I deceived you, Halla. You must trust me, it was necessary."

"Why?"

"I can't tell you."

She shook her head. "There had better be a good reason."

"Trust me, there is." He gripped her hand tighter. "I must go now, I have matters of importance to attend to." His other hand caressed the side of her face, while he smiled dangerously. "Shall I call on you later?"

She was all atingle once more. "As if I could stop you."

His old smirk was back. He bowed his head and began to turn to walk away, but stopped. "Halla?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you." And with that he was gone.

**PART TWO**

Halla returned to her room, heart still beating as if she were sprinting. She closed the door firmly behind her, leaning against it. While she didn't like being lied to, she hated seeing him in pain. And apparently, he had a good reason. Though that still gave her little comfort. Something much greater than she had previously believed was going on around her, something to which no one wanted her to be privy.

She collapsed on her bed, specifically ignoring the spilled wine and overturned goblet. All she wanted to do now was sleep amongst her ostentatious purple bed sheets and dream of things more pleasant than what surrounded her at present.

She felt herself drift off as her mind reviewed the day's events-well, one event. One particularly enjoyable event, the memory of which left her body tingling and a smile on her face.

As Loki caressed her once more, a slow, creeping mist wound its way around them, the stone walls melting into a soft grey sky. A bleak landscape stretched all around them; she craned her head to see behind her, to find two figures in the distance. She turned back, but Loki had vanished along with his chair. She stood, grabbing the hilt of her sword in its sheath at her hip, and approached them. The mist gathered more thickly, obscuring her vision. She lost them, their outlines indistinguishable from the rock piles and boulders of the place.

She swung around to retrace her steps and get out the mist, and started: the two people were standing behind her, blank stares focused on her.

_Mother? Father?_

They both were gaunt, as if they had not eaten a full meal in weeks, their clothes in tatters. Her mother's long hair lay thin and limp upon her shoulders and her father looked small, weak, his back hunched over. He raised a trembling hand.

"Halla, please, come find us! She has us in her clutches and will not release us until you give her the sword. The sword you used to defeat the beast at our home."

"Come quickly, we do not have much time left," said her mother, her voice cracking as she spoke. "If she doesn't get what she wants, she's going to _kill_ us, Halla."

"Halla, please!"

"Halla!" Her father moved to grasp at her with his outstretched hand.

"Halla!" Her mother touched her face, hand cold and cracked.

Something pulled at her arm roughly and her eyes popped open. Above her was Sif's concerned face. "Halla, you were having a nightmare."

Halla sat up. There was no mist, no rocky landscape, just the walls of her room, the bed, and Sif. "Sif?"

"I came looking for you when you didn't meet me for training," she said. Sif sat down beside her, eyes squinting. "You were sweating, and your face was horribly contorted. What were you dreaming of?"

"I…I was…." She shook her head. "Sif, I saw my parents. They came to me, the Enchantress has them, they need my-"

"Calm yourself, Halla," Sif said. "You say you dreamt this?"

"Yes."

She thought for a moment. "I think we should talk to the Allfather. If this is indeed true…then it's an important development, and what you saw could give us a hint as to where the _witch _might be hiding."

"Sif, if there's even a chance-"

"Chance of what?" said Loki's voice, and he peeked his head around the door. "My, Halla, you look awful! Have I missed something?"

"Remove yourself," Sif said darkly, drawing up her shoulders.

Loki ignored her. "Halla, what is it? You look as if you've seen a ghost!"

She raised an eyebrow. "Well, I did. I had a dream, and my parents-oh, would you come out from behind the door, it's as if I'm talking to a floating head!"

He obeyed. "What about your parents?"

"I saw them, Loki," she said, feeling her face contort into a smile she couldn't control. "They're alive! The Enchantress has them-"

"Don't be so sure of that," he said, one hand on his hip. "Amora is a skilled sorceress, and she certainly knows how to conjure up dreams. This is not what it seems."

"But what if it is? Loki, I can't just _leave _them!"

"Halla, I can almost guarantee you they aren't with her."

"You can _almost_ guarantee. What if it isn't a lie?"

He examined her for a moment, and then groaned loudly. "Halla, please don't."

"I have to find them."

"Halla! This is a fool's errand. Loki…is correct," said Sif. Loki smiled at that, an expression that reminded her of a satisfied cat after it had successfully stolen a morsel of food off someone's plate. Sif merely gave him an annoyed sidelong glance. "This is no doubt important, but not for the reason you think."

Loki sat down next on the other side of Halla, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him slightly as Sif shifted on the bed, frowning. Halla hadn't the time to deal with her friend's frustration, and pushed it from her mind. "I know-trust me, I know-how much you want Svein and Alfhildr to be alive. But my dear, this is a ruse. She wants to lure you into a trap."

"I don't care. Even if you're right, I'll still have found her. You keep saying how impressive my abilities are, I would have a chance of defeating her. Then Asgard would be safe. How can that be a bad thing?"

"Yes, you're abilities are quite remarkable, but you still lack control. Amora is experienced, cunning. You wouldn't prevail."

"Still, I must go."

"At least speak with the Allfather first," Sif said. "This matter concerns him, too."

"So it does," Halla said, though she didn't relish the thought of speaking with the king again. He always stared at her in the most unsettling way, eye attempting to bore down into her soul.

"Sif, would you be so kind as to inform the king?" Loki said, the sweetest smile on his face. Sif frowned, but acceded to his request, and left quickly. Loki turned to Halla.

"If you truly mean to do this, then I think there's someone who may be able to help us."

"Who?"

"The Queen of Nornheim. Karnilla."

**PART THREE**

They met the queen in her chambers. A pair of her servants had ushered them in quickly, through a side door in the walls of Nornkeep. The passage had been dark, lit only by the torches of the two women in front of them. Loki hadn't particularly liked it, but Karnilla's terms had been clear.

After what had seemed a good half hour of trudging up the absurdly small stairs, the spiral stairs had come to a halt. The older servant knocked twice on the door, and after a beat, it had creaked open, revealing a warm, richly decorated room within. It was rather small, having only a few plush chairs and one window, covered by thick drapes. The hearth crackled in the corner, and beside stood the queen in all her regal glory, purple gown flowing well past her feet along the carpet, tall crown glinting in the firelight. She turned slightly, an interested smile playing across her features.

"Well, if it isn't the clever prince of Asgard." Her gaze turned to Halla, purple eyes flicking up and down. "And this must be Halla Baldersdottir."

"It's Sveinsdottir…my lady." Halla proceeded to bow awkwardly, not removing her eyes from Karnilla for a moment.

"How impertinent." The queen picked up the train of her dress and stepped towards them. "I understand that you were raised on Midgard. How awful for you."

"Gracious Karnilla," Loki said, putting on one of his more personable smiles. "Our time with you is regrettably limited. We have need of your vast knowledge."

"Always the charmer!" she said, approaching him. She crossed her arm and placed the other upon it, resting the top of her hand on her chin. "What is it that you wish to know?"

"You must know of the Enchantress' deception."

"Indeed."

"Halla has had a dream, where her loved ones-"

"The parents and her-"

"Yes, her parents," Loki said quickly. _That could have ended poorly. _"Of course, this is a ruse, but perhaps there is something that could be done in order to ascertain her location."

"If there is some way to track Amora through her spell on Halla?" Karnilla leaned back slightly. Loki felt Halla bristle beside him, and willed her to keep calm and shot Karnilla a look that screamed _Say no more!_ He hoped that Halla assumed they meant the dream, and her suspicion hadn't been piqued. "There may be. But there is something else, no?"

"Indeed. The beast that attacked Halla's village, and captured us-"

"Yes, I know of these events," Karnilla said, tossing a dismissive hand at him as she turned away. "There is a dimension, foreign to the Nine Worlds and most others." She walked back to the fireplace. "It's made entirely of shadow, and its inhabitants normally keep to their realm, for they are unable to exist for very long in our realms. The light is poison to them."

She turned to him. "The Enchantress has accessed this dark place, and now holds the beings in her sway. All they did, they did at her bidding, and in a way that they saw fit."

Loki took a deep breath. "She must want something from you, Halla," Karnilla continued. "Something of great power. Do you know what that could be?"

Halla shook her head, and the queen smirked. "Well, you must have some idea. Though you won't tell me, it seems. No matter. I have no wish to embroil myself and Nornheim in this matter. It simply isn't worth it to anger the Allfather."

Loki wasn't entirely certain if he bought her story, but this was her kingdom, filled with her loyal subjects-it would be unwise to test her patience. _Don't want to start another war now, do we?_

Now, Karnilla beckoned Halla towards her with a finger. "Come forward, Halla. Worry not, I have no wish to do you harm." _No, you certainly don't, not if you want Balder to love you as you do him, _Loki thought.

She placed a hand on Halla's head and closed her eyes. "Yes, there is a trail. Faint, but yes, it's there." Her brow furrowed. "She's deep underground, somewhere far away…not on Asgard…I believe…yes, I see it now. Jötunheim." She released Halla, who swayed dangerously back and forth. Loki moved to catch her, just in time. She fell, unconscious, into his arms. He stole a quick gaze, too quick, at her inert form, at her beautiful face. He felt his heart stir, and tried to stifle it. Karnilla smirked.

"She is powerful, but she has much to learn," she said. "And I know what you and the Enchantress did, in case you were wondering. Your father was right, the girl must never learn the truth, or we'll all be destroyed."

"And for that reason, I ask you-"

"Those who will know, already do. You have nothing to fear from me, Loki, I have every reason to want to _live_." The queen cocked her head. "Do you know how much she cares for you?"

When Loki made no move to answer, she continued. "She loves you, deeply. The question remains, do you love her?"

_Try to place a hand on my head, I'll cut it off, woman. _"The Enchantress must be stopped. She knows too much, and she may try to use Halla to her own ends, foolish though that may be. She has hurt Asgard greatly."

"True." The queen examined him for a moment. "Though, I don't believe she had anything to do with your recent tragedy, prince. That…was an unusual event."

His heart stung with pain. "I never thought she did."

Karnilla looked him over once more before turning away. "You may leave. Please be careful, I would like this little sojourn to remain as much of a secret as possible." Loki gathered Halla in his arms and bowed before turning back to the door. "And Loki," the queen called. "Take care of her. She is Balder's, and therefore I do care about what happens to her."

"You need harbour no doubt as to that matter," Loki said, dipping below the frame and disappearing into the dark.


End file.
